The droplets have grown old on the field,
they’ll soon go back to heaven,
the sun has set, my labor
fruitless but done, lies on the field,
together with my weapons.
Tomorrow will bring new struggles,
the battle is won when we feel like
the war we wage has gained some meaning.
I lay down my weapons for the day,
to regain strengths for tomorrow’s battle,
and if there is more to it, I’ll bravely overcome it,
and if that’s all there is, I’ll gladly be defeated.